


Take a Step Back

by Oliver__Niko



Category: Original Work
Genre: Babies, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, My first time uploading OC stuff on here, Original Character(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 06:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20541506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oliver__Niko/pseuds/Oliver__Niko
Summary: Shane is losing steam as he tries to build up his portfolio. His boyfriend, Alan, attempts to calm him through a less common method.





	Take a Step Back

**Author's Note:**

> I reached the 100k mark on my novel's rewrite today, so I decided to finally upload this drabble I wrote a month ago! My precious babies ... It's for the prompt “Shh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”--thank you to my friend Krissey for sending it my way!
> 
> I'm not sure who will bother reading my original content, but for anyone who does, thank you and I hope you enjoy <3

Another sigh. Possibly already the dozenth sigh within the last half an hour. With it, Shane’s head falls against his desk, mumbling something incoherent into the wood.

Alan is unsure on whether or not he should be amused. He wanders over, resting his hand on the back of Shane’s office chair as he peers at Shane’s monitor. Remarkable in his eyes, who has never quite developed a passion for creating art despite all the years he’s had to practice talents. But not enough for Shane.

“I just can’t seem to get it _right! _Why did I choose to study architecture, of all things?”

“I mean, you did pass your degree with flying colours, didn’t you?”

“That’s besides the point.” Shane’s voice becomes clearer as he raises his head off his desk. He huffs, blowing a few golden-blond curls off his forehead. “Don’t let all the people who act like building a portfolio is easy fool you. It’s not.”

“It’ll all be worth it, I promise.”

Shane leans back on his chair, peering up at Alan behind him. “This probably all seems really easy to you. I mean, the time I’m taking on this stuff probably seems like minutes to you.”

“I can understand the complexity. Fortentia, after all, had been very much complicated in structure.”

“How _did _you even manage to create it? Is building another one of the talents I don’t yet know about?”

Alan chuckles, shaking his head. “My sister Hertha helped. Her powers are the opposite of mine; she specialises in creation.”

“Huh. Seems odd for a demon.”

“Don’t be fooled. There are many things one can create. You prove that yourself.”

“I really do wish I was _actually _creating right now.”

Shane must be breaking some sort of record for sighing. He swivels in his chair, tapping his tablet pen as though this will somehow help him magically find motivation again. Nope. Not working. He swears the Gods themselves have decided to take away any shred of ability for a while. As they always seem to do when it matters most.

He blinks. There are fingers running through his hair. It reminds him that he removed his beanie; something must _definitely _be wrong if he had been pushed to throw _that _to one side.

“You know people aren’t allowed to touch it unless I say,” says Shane. What about the oil from fingertips getting absorbed into it, after all? His hair is temperamental. It changes its mood over the slightest touch. Hell, even the alignment of the planets.

“It’s only for a moment.”

“_Alan.”_

“Shh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.”

Shane presses his lips together, stopping himself from laughing. “_Braiding it? _But why?”

“You seem to relax when Chantelle experiments on you. As long as it’s not anything like eyeliner, at least. Don’t deny it; you like people touching your hair.”

“If it’s the right person, and I know my hair won’t have a fit over it. Also, this will be the tiniest braid in existence.”

“Perhaps. But it’s nice, right?”

Shane hums. “I guess it’s not so bad. It’s kind of relaxing.”

“See? And maybe if it _did _get messed up, you’d have to go and sort it out. Either way, I’m taking you away from your work, so it’s a win.”

“Ah. That’s what you’re doing.”

“You need to look at it with a fresh pair of eyes.” Alan, now tired of braiding, proceeds to tuck Shane’s hair behind his ears. A kiss is pressed on top of his head. “Even if you just stepped away for a _little _while, I’m sure by the time you get back, you’re able to do what you were struggling with.”

Shane ponders this. Truthfully, this is what he often tells others. Creativity cannot be forced. Though sometimes pushing himself when he is not particularly motivated can be useful, in general, it can simply be exhausting. Ransacking his brain for slithers of inspiration is rarely a good idea. Even if he _does _end up being able to create something, he’ll usually dislike it anyway if he’s not in the right frame of mind.

“All right,” he says, placing his tablet pen to one side. “You win. Actually, now you mention it, I’m kinda hungry.”

“There you are. I bet it’s just you needing food.”

Shane grins at him, now on his feet. He raises on his toes to press his lips against Alan’s. “Thanks. I needed that.”

“No problem. I’m always here for hair braiding services.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Shane grabs onto Alan’s hand, pulling him towards the kitchen.


End file.
